


hold you in my arms

by akumatised (emeraldine)



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Bad Parent Gabriel Agreste, Canon Compliant, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hawk Moth is Gabriel Agreste, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Reveal, SO, but hey, doesnt really effect the story at all lol, i managed to actually finish it and edit it to work post-animaestro so, im callin that a win, ish, just bc i want them to be a lil older and more mature, not suuper heavy on the angst tho bc im not amazing at it, oblivio doesn't really work in this lil not-au so lets pretend it doesn't happen after all this, okay? okay, started this after the collector and its been a wip since then looollllll, takes place after animaestro and before oblivio, were pretending the last 3 seasons have taken place over 2 years
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-26
Updated: 2019-03-26
Packaged: 2019-12-18 12:53:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18250247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emeraldine/pseuds/akumatised
Summary: When Ladybug comes to her partner convinced that Gabriel Agreste is Hawkmoth for the second time, he doesn't take it super well. He's no stranger to a sleepless night, but that's never been a result of so much confusion and fear and anxiety before now. He feels trapped, alone, and helpless.Until he finds himself on a certain civilian's balcony, that is.Things don't feel quite so scary when he's wrapped up in Marinette's warmth.





	hold you in my arms

**Author's Note:**

> [hold you in my arms- ray lamontagne](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lMcMAsNXfiw)

“Ladybug and Chat Noir. Enjoy your apparent victory. Because as in every tragedy, triumph always comes before failure.”

///

Adrien tosses and turns, eyes closed, mind replaying the visual of his father walking away from the phone he doesn’t know is filming him and spouting off some sort of “I’ll get you next time” speech like some cartoon villain.

He’s been unable to shake the the gross unease that has sat like a cloud above him ever since Ladybug showed him the shakily filmed video from the cinema rooftop.

And not _just_ because the thought of his cold, composed father adopting the persona of a pathetic bad guy repeatedly bested by a bunch of meddling kids is in equal parts disgusting and hilarious.

No, the primary reason for Adrien’s distress is the concern that Ladybug could be right, and his father could actually _be_ the very same villain that has waged war against Paris, and, unknowingly, his own _son_ for over two years now.

No wonder he can’t get to sleep.

Of course, this isn’t the first time Gabriel Agreste has made it onto their suspect list. All those months ago, before he was akumatised, Ladybug had her theories. Theories Adrien didn’t want to entertain, no matter how much sense they made. But then, of course, The Collector had happened, and any suspicions were forgotten or discarded.

But Adrien had, and still has, no certainty that Miraculous holders can’t be akumatised. And Hawkmoth’s probably crazy enough to akumatise himself for the sake of concealing his identity and furthering his efforts to catch Ladybug and Chat Noir.

The question is.. is Gabriel?

Ladybug’s reasoning makes sense, if he’s being honest. Adrien’s father is cold, he’s secretive; he, for some reason, owns a book containing everything anyone would ever need to know about Miraculouses (if one could decipher it).. Hawkmoth’s first appearance occurred only a few months after his mother’s disappearance, at which his father was at his lowest point.. And the butterfly motifs littered throughout Gabriel’s designs, his business and his home are more than a little unnerving once you take notice of all of them.

But that’s not really proof, is it? It’s not concrete, right? His father could have had that book for any number of reasons!

These are the justifications he’s made any time the fleeting thought has returned in the months since that day. But now..

True, he didn’t outright admit that he was Hawkmoth in the video Ladybug had taken. But Adrien’s been wracking his sleep-deprived brain for any other reason his father could be making threatening declarations towards Ladybug and Chat Noir, and he can’t find one.

So, the most likely conclusion in all of this is...

“You really need to stop thinking, kid. You’re keeping me up.”

Adrien turns over in bed to face Plagg, whose glowing green eyes are clearly disapproving.

“How could my thinking be keeping you awake? It’s internal!”

“Well your tossing and turning isn’t exactly silent! Besides, I can feel your worry from the other side of the room; it’s like an aura!” In the dim light streaming through the windows, Adrien can vaguely see Plagg shuddering. “Not cool, kid.”

“Well, what am I supposed to do; just _stop_ thinking about the possibility that my dad could be the supervillain I’ve been fighting for 2+ years?”

“Yeah, that’d be great, actually!”

“And how am I meant to do that? It’s not like my brain has an off switch!”

“Well it should! It’d save me plenty of headaches!”

Adrien rolls his eyes, turning flat on his back to stare at the ceiling. After a few moments of silence, he hears a sigh to his left.

“I really hate to say this, and _don’t_ think this means I’m gonna let this be a regular thing, but.. You need to get out of this house before you lose your mind and all the sleep you could possibly get tonight. Let’s go.”

Adrien inhales the hope surging into his chest. Freedom. That’s exactly what he needs. “You’d do that for me?”

“Oh, shut up, I’m not totally heartless. I can see that this is killing you. And besides, if it means I can get some sleep later..”

“You _do_ care! I knew it! Okay, claws out!”

 

///

 

He’s not running to any particular destination; he doesn’t have any plans. He just runs and jumps and flies and keeps himself moving, hoping that maybe, soon, he’ll be fast enough that the wind rushing past him and the adrenaline building in him are all he can focus on.

Maybe he’ll manage to tire himself out enough that he gets to sleep, too.

But, like I said, he’s not going anywhere in particular.

At least, he doesn’t think he is. Until he gets there.

He’s always liked Marinette’s house and her parents’ bakery. Not just because they make the most incredible croissants he’s ever had, although that definitely tips the scales. There’s this warmth to their little home that’s more than just physical; that can’t simply be explained by the compact size of the place and the industrial ovens on the ground floor where the bakery is. It’s love; it’s family. It’s something Adrien can understand, but hasn’t _felt_ for himself in a long time.

Whenever he visits Marinette’s house, he finds himself never wanting to leave.

Perhaps that’s why he’s standing on a rooftop a mere stone’s throw away from her balcony now.

(It could have something to do with _her_ , too, and the fact that he’s pretty sure she has a crush on him and the fact that he’s kind of okay with that and the fact that when her eyes light up she kind of reminds him of-)

Anyway. He needs to not be around someone his civilian self is friends with when he’s still transformed, because that’ll lead to questions he definitely can’t answer.

Turning away from the inviting little house (in which lights are still on, he can’t help but notice), he remembers that he really didn’t have a destination other than away from his cold, cold mansion, and the memory of what he’s running from brings back that all-too-familiar flurry of anxiety in his chest, and then he’s really honestly contemplating just being an idiot and risking it all for the sake of Marinette’s warmth, because she couldn’t turn away a hero having a panic attack, could she?

But what if someone were to see? What if someone thought she knew his identity or there was something going on between them? They already had that weird day where she told him she loved him even though she definitely didn’t and that led to brunch with her family which led to her dad being akumatised- oh God, what if he ruined things all over again? _What if someone saw them together again and that made her a target?_

There’s no way he can let that happen. He has to go.

“Chat Noir?”

Except now she’s seen him.

“Uh, h-hi! I mean, evening, Princess!”

He winces at his own theatrics. He still has _no_ idea how to act around this girl.

“What are you doing out so late, Chat? Surely there’s no need to patrol after midnight?”

Now’s his chance to use an easy and valid reason (something that sounds valiant, like “crime happens all the time, Marinette; I need to be vigilant!” would work well) and leave the scene before entangling someone undeserving in his mess. But all he wants is to confide in her.

He glances at her right as her curiosity morphs into concern at his lack of a response, and sighs. “It’s totally wrong of me to get a civilian involved in my mess, but..”

Now she looks _really_ concerned, but not in the way Ladybug probably would (-“Chat, you know there are boundaries for a reason”-); it’s more like she wants to help him. And he knows Ladybug’s right, and he loves her wisdom, but damn it, it’s such a change to be given the opportunity to unload, instead of being stifled and restricted… and he’s not going to let that opportunity go to waste.

“I couldn’t sleep. I was stressing out about something, and it kind of all snowballed into this- this itch to move; to leave; to run. So, I did. And I happened to stop to catch my breath around here, and- well, here we are.”

Her face falls, and it’s kind of insane to watch as someone literally takes on your pain as their own. Has he been on the receiving end of such blatant empathy from Marinette before? Or, really, from anyone? “I’m so sorry”, she says; and he knows she means it. “Anxiety is the worst.”

“You’ve dealt with it too?” He doesn’t know if her response is necessarily an invitation to intrude on her life, but his current position next door to her feels too far for such conversation, so he ends up on her balcony at some point without really registering it. Guess that all important choice has been made now.

“Yeah”, she sighs, leaning against her wall with her arms wrapped around herself. “It’s weird; I’m not really insecure, typically, but sometimes… sometimes I get so caught up in my worries and my need for everything to be perfect and it just- yeah. It snowballs, like you said.” She shakes her head. “Not fun.”

He laughs, somewhat ruefully. “You can say that again.”

She looks at him again thoughtfully. “Hey.. I know we still don’t really know each other _that_ well, and I know you’ve got an identity to protect, but can I ask you something? Just one question; I’m not trying to pry into your personal life or anything.”

“Sure.” _Anything_ , he wants to say. That’s the weird thing about Marinette; he kind of feels like he could tell her anything and everything and his secrets would be safe with her. They’re not all that close, on either side of his mask, but in a weird way he thinks he’d probably trust her with his life.

“This thing that was bothering you; is it something at home?”

He nods, remembering all over again.

“Do you.. maybe want to hang out here for a while? Until you feel okay to go home, or- or something? I just- it seems like you could use the distraction. I’m only going to be sewing, but I could grab us some tea, you could just… forget, for a bit. If- if you want.”

She’s smiling reassuringly, but there’s a hint of hopeful vulnerability in the offer and in her eyes, like it matters to her whether or not he’ll take her up on it.

What did he ever do to deserve this?

“That’d be.. kind of perfect. Thank you.”

Her smile grows, and she turns back to head into her room. “Great. What kind of tea do you like?”

//

It occurs to him somewhere around one thirty, when they’re both finally drifting off, that he never asked her what she was doing up after midnight, and he never thought about the house he was avoiding in all the time he spent in her room. And now that he’s filled with a peace he couldn’t have even imagined having a few hours ago, he thinks he could probably get a decent night’s sleep in his own bed if the warmth that’s seeped from her into him doesn’t die out on the run home.

“You should get some sleep, Princess. You’ve got school tomorrow, I’m assuming.”

She groans. “Don’t remind me. Are you gonna be okay, though?”

He smiles, knowing his answer will actually, truly be genuine. “I think I will. I’ve laughed more tonight than I have in a long time. Thank you, Marinette.”

She returns the smile, face aglow in the lamplight. “Anytime.”

He turns to leave, and is out on the balcony again before her voice stops him.

“Chat?”

“Yes?”

“I mean that. Anytime, truly. Being a superhero must be kind of a lonely business. So when you need to get out of the house, or talk, or not talk, or whatever.. I hope you know you can come here.”

“A-are you sure? I mean-”

“I’m sure.”

And damn it, her eyes are shining and his resolve crumbles into nothing.

“Thanks, Marinette.”

When he enters his still-cold room not long later, and piles on his warmest blankets, the light glimmering in his chest still hasn’t died, and as he sleeps that light looks a little like her eyes.

 

///

 

Things get better after that. Well, sort of.

At school, he spends more time with Marinette. She, of course, doesn’t know that that’s because he’s even _more_ drawn to her than before thanks to the empathy and kindness she didn’t have to show to someone she barely knew, but she seems to like having him around and he definitely likes the way her eyes widen and her cheeks colour when he compliments her.

And every once in a while, she manages to turn the tables on him and make _him_ blush, like that day in the park when she kissed him on the cheek.

He doesn’t mind that too much either.

But he’s been trying to ignore the flutters in his stomach and the way he wants to linger when she’s around. He’s been trying not to mull over the question of his feelings regarding Marinette, because he already knows that leads to a whole mess of confusion he does _not_ want to untangle, but..

But he’d be lying if he said she hadn’t been on his mind since he found his way to her balcony a few nights prior. And he’d be lying if he said he doesn’t feel this urge, this pull toward her every time he sees her at school. He wants to be near her, to talk with her and joke with her and flirt with her-

Yeah. So maybe he might kind of have a bit of a crush.

But he’s pretty sure that’s okay, because he’s pretty sure she feels the same way, which, honestly, kind of blows his mind. He’s never experienced this whole reciprocated feelings thing before; when he flirts with Ladybug she’ll tap him on the nose, or scoff, or retort. Marinette just kind of gazes at him for a second, like she can’t quite believe this is reality (which is just- woah), and man, her flustered, shocked face is just priceless.

So, really, he doesn’t have to think about spending a day on a scavenger hunt for the right brand of constipation pills for her like he did that one time (even if he did find the request a liiittle awkward), or piling compliment after compliment on her like he did on Heroes’ Day, or relishing the soft bashfulness in her smile when he goes out of his way to meet her at the front steps of the school whenever he can.

So, yeah. School is great.

He pretty much never wants to leave.

Which is both an indicator of how wonderful things are there and how not-wonderful things still are at home.

( _When were they ever, though?_ his mind asks.)

Unfortunately, obligations are still a thing, and since his father doesn’t know he’s suspecting him of being a supervillain, life must go on. Photoshoots, fencing lessons, Chinese, piano; he slogs through them all despite the toll his all-nighters are taking on him and tells himself that with enough coffee and determination, he can handle it.

He can’t always handle it.

Like today, for example.

Having to go directly from school to a photoshoot sucks. Having to go directly from school to a photoshoot even though you’re too fatigued to do anything properly, resulting in a bad performance, _really_ sucks. But this photographer might honestly be the worst part of this whole equation.

“Adrien! Come on! I’m going for ‘broody and nonchalant’, not ‘I haven’t slept in 8 days’!”

 _To be fair_ , he thinks, _I probably_ _haven’t_ _slept in 8 days._ That’s not really something he can say, though.

“Sorry”, he says instead, shrugging apologetically. “Just a little worn out.”

“Oh no! Don’t tell me the spoilt rich boy’s struggling to juggle some homework and a little side gig where he makes faces for a camera! What ever will you do?”

Adrien bristles instantly. _Don’t blow up, don’t blow up, don’t-_

“Welcome to the real world, kid. Better get used to it.”

_Oh, that's it._

Just as he's about to lose his cool, Nathalie steps forward, face almost as expressionless as usual. Her words, though, are laced with distaste.

“If you're done abusing Gabriel’s son, I think a break is in order.” The photographer opens his mouth to protest, but Nathalie’s glare stops him short.

'Thank you’, Adrien mouths. Nathalie merely nods, mouth pressed in a thin line. He hides behind a pillar to let Plagg out of his shirt pocket, and the kwami looks even angrier than Adrien.

“What a jerk! Want me to give him a piece of my mind? I'll rip into him! I'll-”

“Thanks, Plagg, but obviously that's not really an option. I just need to get through the rest of this shoot, and then I'll be fine”, he says. Inwardly, he's seething, ready to collapse and ready to cry all at once.

“Adrien. You're with me. You don't have to put on a brave face.”

Adrien sighs, shoulders sagging. “It's just exhausting, you know?” he admits, voice small.

“What, being an Agreste?” Plagg quips. Except that's exactly it, and suddenly there's a lump in Adrien’s throat and Plagg knows he's hit a nerve.

“Crap. Sorry, kid. Um- you know what, let's go.”

“What? Where? I can't just leave this shoot!”

“To Marinette's, kid. Be honest with yourself; you need her right now.”

“I can't”, Adrien responds sadly. “You know I can't. My dad would kill me if I ditched a shoot!”

“Okay”, Plagg says. “Okay. You finish this shoot, you go home with the babysitters your dad insists on you having, and then you go see Marinette. You don't bottle up this crap like you have been; you go and get the comfort you need. Okay?”

“Okay.”

//

When Marinette finds him at her balcony a few hours later, she doesn’t ask questions. She drops her pencil, rises from her desk without a word and just pulls him into her room and into a hug. Adrien doesn’t know when exactly he starts crying, but even as his tears dampen her shoulder she doesn’t pull away. And a scary thought occurs to him when he’s finally saying goodbye:

She’s not just a friend anymore, that much is clear. But she’s not just a crush either. She’s.. She’s more like a lifeline at this point.

That’s dangerous. He can’t let that happen.

 

///

 

As time passes, he watches his father more closely than ever. Not really intentionally; he’s already declared that he’ll only go crazy trying to prove his father’s guilt or innocence (not before double-checking with Plagg whether or not he’d be able to sense another kwami’s aura within the house, of course. The answer, sadly, was no). But despite his assertions that getting involved will only make things messier than they already are, in a way he can’t help it. He sees butterfly symbols everywhere in his house, he feels threads of suspicion tugging at his senses when his father locks himself away in his office demanding not to be disturbed, he finds himself subconsciously suspecting Nathalie of being aware of his father’s (potential) schemes; essentially, he snoops without properly snooping.

Unfortunately, all his hyper-awareness seems to only confirm Ladybug’s theories. Everything he sees points him in the direction that his father really, truly, could actually be Hawkmoth. And that..

Well, let’s say this whole anxiety problem definitely doesn’t lessen. More and more he finds himself wide awake at all hours of the night, looking for things to occupy his attention and chase away the worry for however long they can. Thankfully, there’s no shortage of ‘things’ in his room, but even the extensive collections of books, movies and video games grow tiresome after a little while. And since he can’t visit Marinette, well..

Resisting the urge to see her has been one of the hardest parts of all this. He needs to distance himself as Chat, for her safety, but he also can’t rely too heavily on her as Adrien. He may not know a whole lot about healthy relationships, but he’s seen enough TV shows to know that when someone leans on someone else during a crisis and gets attached to the point where they can’t function without them, things only get messy and toxic.

He doesn’t want to be unhealthily attached to Marinette.

But that’s a hell of a lot easier said than done. And when he sits in class itching to turn around and just look at her for the sake of knowing she’s there, or when he’s sitting near her as they have lunch with Alya and Nino and all he wants is to put his arm around her like his friends can do in public without a care, it’s pretty clear that he craves her, and that that’s not going to change any time soon.

If he’s being honest though, the worst part of it is that he _knows_ she’s worrying about him. She’s still as sunny as ever, doing her duties as class president as perfectly as always and caring for people faultlessly as she has for as long as he's known her and long before then. But he can see that the light in her eyes has dimmed, and he can see the slight furrow of her brow when she starts to think about it.

Apparently, Alya and Nino can see it too.

“Okay, girl, spill. What’s going on? You haven’t been yourself the past few days! Is everything okay?” Alya asks one day. The four of them are heading home from a cafe they’d spent their Sunday afternoon at, and Adrien’s not too proud to admit he's glad Alya’s house, where she and Nino are headed, is the first stop on the way to all their respective homes.

“I’m worried about a friend of mine”, Marinette replies with a sigh, bringing him back to the moment and instantly reactivating the dormant guilt sitting in his stomach.

“Who?” Alya asks. “Do we know them?”

“No, no, it’s a regular at the bakery. They.. tend to come around when things aren’t great at home, and I can’t really help much while I’m working, but I think it helps h-them to know that I’m willing to listen, and that they can unload.”

He won’t lie, he’s pretty impressed with that cover up. When did she get so good at lying?

“The problem is”, she continues, “he- _they_ haven’t come around in a while. I’m worried that things have gotten worse, or that they don’t feel like they should come to me, or something. I want to help, you know? But I can’t when they stop coming over and telling me what’s going on.”

Alya rubs Marinette’s shoulder, smiling sympathetically. “First of all, girl, you are the purest and most wonderful human being the world has ever seen, and I bet this person appreciates the hell out of you for helping them.”

“Totally!” Nino agrees.

“And secondly.. I heard that ‘he’! Is this like, a thing? Do you like this guy? Does he like you?”

Marinette rolls her eyes with a groan. “You’re unbelievable, Alya.”

“What else did you expect?” Alya asks with a laugh. “I gotta know if my girl’s making someone fall in love with her!”

_You’re more right than you think, Alya._

“That’s _so_ not the part of this that matters.”

“Maybe not, but it matters to me! And you haven’t answered my question! Is there something going on?”

“OH LOOK”, Nino announces loudly. “What a shame, we’ve reached your house, Alya! Guess you’ll have to interrogate Marinette some other time. See you guys later!”

Adrien swallows back a laugh when he sees Marinette mouth ‘thank you’ to Nino and he returns it with a thumbs up, pulling his girlfriend away and towards her house.

“I won't be dropping this any time soon”, Alya calls as she retreats. “You know that, right?”

“Oh believe me, I know.”

Marinette and Adrien wave goodbye to their friends and settle into a quiet as they walk side by side, she clearly still thinking of her mysterious friend and he trying to figure out what to say to make her feel better without giving anything away.

“You know”, he says hesitantly into the space between them, “I bet your friend is really grateful for everything you’ve done for him.”

Marinette turns to look at him. “You think so? I can’t figure out why he’d just disappear, though!”

“Maybe he feels bad about unloading to you, or Alya’s right and he’s got a crush on you…” At this, Marinette blushes, and joy bubbles out of him in laughter. “It’s anyone’s guess, really. But you can’t doubt that you’ve helped this guy, Marinette.  You need to give yourself more credit.”

She smiles bashfully, head dipping low. “Th-thanks, Adrien.” It’s still crazy to him; the thought that a simple compliment from him could disarm her the way it does. He doesn’t know when her crush on him began (- _if it even_ **_is_ ** _a crush-_ his brain helpfully chastises), but whatever caused it, he’s never felt like it was merely to do with his looks or his fame; Marinette’s never been like that. If they ever talk about it, he’ll have to ask.

Maybe. If he can find the guts.

He looks over at her to find her seemingly lost in thought, weighing up her next words, but those words never make it out of her mouth.

Or, at least, if they do, they get lost in the screams.

Adrien’s head falls back with a groan as he rolls his eyes. Of _course_ an akuma manages to interrupt a rare solid conversation between him and the girl he’s quickly falling for. Of course.

Marinette’s expression is all business when he looks back at her, and he’s shocked by the steely determination on her face. He’s always been so confused, being around the person she becomes when an akuma attacks. She’s not a superhero on the side like he is, and although her natural personality is full of bravery and leadership skills, it’s like she becomes Ladybug when an akuma comes around. How? And why?

“We need to get to safety. And figure out where the akuma actually is, so we know where not to go.”

Pride swells through him. “Good thinking, my l-”

Wait.

_WAIT._

She’s staring at him, wide eyed. Oh no.

This is bad. This is **_really_ **bad.

“Um-”

Obviously he’s _not_ glad that a chunk of a car thrown by the akuma knocks her out cold before she can say anything else, but he’ll admit the timing _is_ kind of perfect.

“Marinette! Oh my gosh, are you okay?” He’s kneeling at her side in an instant, worry increasing as the seconds tick by and she remains unresponsive.

“Ladybug, I hope you’re around,” he mutters, picking Marinette up bridal style, “because Chat Noir isn’t available at the moment.”

 

///

 

He's at her side the second she wakes up. Which, honestly, is kind of a fluke, given that he'd had to fight and capture an akuma (which, by the way, was still fluttering madly in the jar he’d thought to ~~steal~~ borrow from Marinette before transforming and leaving her room) _and_ race back in the hopes that he’d catch her and be able to explain everything. And sure enough, right as Plagg is flying into his shirt pocket and he’s pulling her desk chair over next to the chaise where she lies, he notices her beginning to stir. Her eyes flutter open, unfocused as she gets her bearings, but as expected, they widen considerably when she notices who’s sitting next to her.

“Adrien?”

He can’t help but smile. “Hi.”

“What’s going on? What- how did I end up here?”

“We found ourselves at the scene of an akuma attack on our way home.”

She sits bolt upright with a gasp. “What?”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. It’s all good, there’s no danger.” Gently, he pushes her back against the chaise, rubbing her arm in what he hopes is a comforting manner. “It’s been taken care of. Ladybug.. Ladybug never arrived on the scene, but Chat’s got the akuma trapped in a jar and I think he’s just planning on holding it captive till he next sees Ladybug so she can purify it. But hey, things are as good as they can be! ...And yet, you look worried still.”

“Was anyone else hurt?”

He smiles. _Of course_ she’s worried about others. “Not that I know of. I went back to the scene to see-”

“You went back? Adrien, _you_ could’ve ended up hurt!”

He laughs, heart swelling at her concern but utterly amused by the irony of the situation. “Don’t worry, I kept a safe distance! I just wanted to see if anybody else had been knocked out. There was a lot of car throwing happening. But, thankfully, nobody else seemed to suffer the same fate, and besides a concussion it seems like _you_ weren’t too hurt, so… all things considered, it’s kind of a win, right?”

Marinette considers, frown still lingering. “I suppose”, she concedes with a pout.

“Thank you for worrying about me, though”, he says.

“Of course I worried!” Her cheeks seem to redden slightly in the evening light. “I.. I care about you, Adrien. You’re my friend.”

If he were wearing the mask, he probably would’ve said something more teasing in response to her concern. She would’ve teased him right back, and they would’ve had a laugh, but for the first time in a long time he’s infinitely more glad to just be Adrien right now.

He’d trade all the teasing in the world to hear her say that again.

Seeing her blush when he says it back, though… something tells him that could be even better.

“I care about you too, Marinette. I’m so glad you’re okay.”

He’s completely right. Her expression grows almost awed in its surprise, and her cheeks flood with warmth. “R-Really?” she asks, blue eyes intense.

He gets stuck on those eyes, pulled in by her gaze until there’s little more than breath between them and they seem to simultaneously realise the moment that’s about to happen. She blinks, shocked, but despite the sudden self-awareness she doesn’t pull away. Just looks at him, daring and hopeful all at once.

He’s not going to refuse.

“Really”, he says in reply, voice unexpectedly low. Their hesitant eyes dart back and forth between each others’ and the rest of the room, hearts seeming to pound in sync as they lean ever closer…

Until the sound of her trap door’s squeaky hinges sends them flying away from each other and Marinette’s mother appears.

“Oh, Adrien, you are still here! I wasn’t sure. Will you be staying for dinner?”

Clearing his throat and getting his bearings, Adrien fishes his phone out of his pocket. “Oh. Uh, I’d love to.. I’ll have to ask and see if it’s okay, though.”

“No problem, sweetheart. I’ll be downstairs; just let me know when you have an answer.”

She shuts the door above her with a smile, and he stands, calling Nathalie and praying for good luck.

“Adrien, where have you been? You said you would only be out for a few hours.”

“I’m sorry, Nathalie. I was walking home with a friend and we got caught in an akuma attack. We’re okay, but she was knocked out, so I took her back to her house. She woke up not long ago, so I’ve just been… catching her up on what happened.”

“I see.”

“I know I’m pushing my luck here, but.. Could I stay a few more hours so we can work on this group project we've been assigned? I’ve been invited to stay for dinner, too. Is that okay?”

A few moments of silence pass, before he hears a hum of consideration. “I suppose. I’ll send the car at 9pm sharp. Don’t keep us waiting.”

“Thank you, Nathalie! I’ll send over the address right away.” He hangs up, flashing a triumphant grin at Marinette.

“I don’t remember anything about a group project…” she says, smirking slyly.

“Don't you? Madame Mendeleiev specifically said we had to spend several hours playing video games.”

Marinette giggled. “Oh, she did, did she?”

“I tell no lies, Marinette.”

“Well then, we’d better get to work.”

//

At some point after hours of gaming, eating and laughing more than he ever has in one night, Adrien finds himself beside Marinette on the couch, blinking slowly in a futile attempt to keep his eyes open. She’s more comfortable with him than she’s ever been before, which may be aided by her sleepiness (not that he’ll complain), and he’s pretty sure if they were better friends, this would be the movie moment where she’d rest her head on his shoulder and his heart would beat out of his chest. That’s not quite reality, but they’re close enough for their sides to be touching, and as she looks up at him with a tired smile in the dim glow of the tv, he can’t ask for anything more.

“I wish this day could last forever”, she murmurs.

“I wish I didn’t have to go home tonight”, he sighs.

Concern furrows her brows. “How are things at home? You’ve sort of seemed… I don’t know. These days, you both smile and sigh more than you used to. Sometimes you’re so happy, and then other times..” she trails off, concern all over her face.

“Can you keep a secret?” he asks, before thinking better of it. Marinette nods, eyes wide and expression solemn.

He weighs up the pros and cons of letting her in; she’s trustworthy, and seems to care about him more than almost anyone else he knows (Nino and Ladybug being the only exceptions), but on the other hand, the more he talks about it the more careful he has to be. Loyal Marinette may be, but she doesn’t need the weight of keeping Adrien’s biggest secret in the event that he slips up and lets her in on it. She’s a civilian; the risk of endangering her is too high. Maybe it’s better if he doesn’t say anything-

“Adrien?”

But damn it, the weight of this is getting too hard to hold.

“I think my father might be Hawkmoth”, rushes out in a whisper. Marinette inhales sharply, and for a moment the confession sits in the space between them, heavy and intrusive and imposing, but all too quickly she’s pulling him in for a hug, and the tears he hadn’t even realised he was holding back come out, falling onto her shoulders as he grips onto her for dear life. She’s murmuring something, although he can’t tell what, and rubbing soothing circles into his back. He anchors himself to this moment, tethers his thoughts to what’s tangible; her hand on his back, her voice in his ear, comfort he’s experienced so little of in his life, and the reality of what he’s going through seems to become just a little hazier, just a little less real and terrifying.

When they pull away she seems to be searching his face- for what, he doesn’t know, but she seems to have figured out something. There’s a split-second shock in her expression, where her eyes go impossibly wide, before her face falls and she pulls him in again, now crying through whispered apologies, over and over.

“Sorry for what? Marinette-” he pulls away, holding her in front of him. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“It’s not fair!” she protests, shaking her head. “I mean, here you are, this vulnerable teenager who's already lost a parent, whose other parent doesn't have a clue how to _be_ one, you're already burnt out and lonely and grieving on a constant basis, and yet you still manage to be the kindest person I know! And _now_ you find out your father's a supervillain that you've been battling for–”

She stops abruptly, covering her mouth. His eyes widen in shock, mirroring her expression.

“Uh, I mean–”

“You know?”

“Well, um–”

“Oh no, Ladybug's going to be _so_ mad at me!”

“Actually, I think she'll–”

“She's going to kill me! Her number one rule is that secret identities _stay secret_!”

“Adrien-”

“How did I let this happen? How did you find out?”

“Adrien!”

Her sharp voice and her hands on his shoulders bring him back, and she's holding eye contact with him, her expression unreadable. “You don't have to worry about Ladybug being mad at you.”

“Why not?”

“She already knows.”

Adrien sucks in a breath, dread filling him, but Marinette's expression only softens.

“And she doesn't think any less of you. Honestly, she's glad she knows. Seeing as your dad is.. you know; it's probably safer that we know, and can protect each other.”

Her words are slowly clicking into place as she looks at him intently. “W.. We?”

She nods. “Do you remember what you called me, right before that car hit me?”

He cringes.

“Yeah…” she says, giggling. “I’d kind of forgotten about it after being knocked out for a few hours, but, well, you weren't wrong.”

“That's how you figured me out.”

“We always kind of assumed we'd know if we ever met.. that wasn't exactly the case, but, when I heard you say those words there wasn't a doubt in my mind. Everything just clicked into place.”

“Were you going to tell me?” he asks, voice small.

“I hadn't figured out how yet, but yes. True, I had my rules, but it wouldn't have been fair for me not to tell you I knew your secret, or trust you with mine. Besides, knowing I knew you outside the mask made keeping it to myself seem pretty pointless. Then, you said what you said about your dad and.. my own confession just came out. But I don't regret it. We should be in this together, Chat.”

Despite all the circumstances that have led to this moment, Adrien finds himself genuinely smiling. They've still got a long way to go before he'll be happy and safe like this all the time, but just being in each other's world for real gives him hope that they can get through this - together.

He pulls her in for another hug, smiling into her shoulder.

“You're awfully happy for someone whose dad might be a supervillain”, Marinette quips.

“Well”, he mumbles into the fabric of her shirt, “although I hate the thought of my dad being Hawkmoth, I've had a few weeks to sit on it, and I think I know why he's doing what he's doing, which puts us one step closer to stopping him. The reality of it _sucks_ , but it also makes winning this feel like more of a possibility.”

“Well.. fair enough, I guess”, she responds with a small laugh.

“Not to mention.. I just found out that my classmate who I've been very quickly developing feelings for also happens to be the partner I've had a crush on since day one, and I'll never have to choose between them. So that's pretty cool.”

She pulls away from the hug, expression amazed. “So.. So what you said earlier, in my room..?”

“I was being completely honest, Marinette. You're so important to me. Even when I was carrying my dad's secret on my own, you were there for me on both sides of the mask. Even though I couldn't confide in you as much as I wanted to, I never felt alone. You've helped me so much already. Add your sweetness, your sense of humour, your generosity, your talent and your dashing good looks to the mix? No wonder I was a goner.”

“Y-You can't just say things like that!” Marinette exclaims, cheeks red.

“Oh, but Princess, I'm not done! You being Ladybug doesn't surprise me at all. I'm only surprised that I couldn't tell, and relieved that the two people I have feelings for are in fact the same person. I can be with both Marinette and Ladybug, I don't have to choose! That is.. if she'll have me.”

“Are you kidding?” she says softly, looking at him with so much tenderness he can feel his insides going crazy. “I just found out the partner I've been trying to ignore my steadily growing feelings for is also the classmate I've been head over heels for since he gave me his umbrella on the first day of school. I'm pretty sure I'm the luckiest girl in the world.”

“And you're not mad that we had to find out this way?” he asks quietly.

“Nah”, she responds simply, leaning her head on his shoulder. “This day would've come eventually, anyway. And more importantly, you're not facing this alone. Sure, that dreamlike scenario where we defeat Hawkmoth and then reveal our identities and live happily ever after would've been great, but I think I'd rather face this battle together, united in every possible way.” Her smile turns soft, almost wistful. “ _Then_ we can run off into the sunset.”

“Sounds like a plan, My Lady”, he says, relishing in the blissful simplicity of putting his arm around her shoulder and playing with her hair. The agony he felt only a few minutes ago and had been bottling up for weeks on end feels significantly smaller now, not eradicated completely, but being pushed aside little by little to make room for hope. They can face this thing together. They always do.

He checks the time on his phone, disappointed they only have about 10 minutes left before Nathalie arrives to take him home. Marinette follows his gaze, then looks up at him sympathetically.

“Are you going to be okay?”

“Yeah”, he says with a shrug. “I mean, look, it’s bad. It’s _been_ bad ever since you showed me that video. I hate to think my father could be so far gone. I hate to think I could be sleeping under the same roof as a villain. You’ve seen me over the past few weeks. I have _not_ been handling it”, he says with a laugh.

“But it’s different now. Before, I had Ladybug’s strategies, and Marinette’s support, which helped as much as they could. Now I have my partner. My best friend. The best thing that’s ever happened to me. I have hope. We’ll figure this out. It sure as hell won’t be easy, but that’s why we have each other.”

“I don’t know how you can be so positive, but if it helps you sleep at night, then by all means”, she giggles, eyes shining in the low light as she stares up at him.

“Please, Bugaboo, if I ever want to sleep at night, all I have to do is dream of you”, he replies with a wink.

Marinette’s expression quickly turns thoroughly unimpressed. “Moment ruined.”

“Aw, come on, LB, you know you love it.”

“Yeah”, she mutters, shaking her head incredulously. “Yeah, for some reason I do.”

She settles beside him with a sleepy smile, shuffling on the couch to get comfortable. A smile tugs at the corners of Adrien’s mouth as he watches her, and he doesn’t care that they’ll have plenty of time for love confessions later.

They _will_ have time, he believes that; they _will_ come out of this battle together.

But he doesn’t want to wait till then.

“Hey, Marinette?”

“Mmm?”

“I know this goes without saying, but..”

It doesn’t even matter that he’s already told her he loves her; that he’s already put his heart out on his sleeve countless times. He’ll say it again. And again, and again, and again.

“I’m so glad it’s you. I lov-”

She cuts him off with a kiss.

Neither of them really know what to do, since they’re both new to this whole thing, but her hands are soft on his cheeks and it’s short and sweet and _wonderful_ , and when she pulls away her smile makes his heart skip several beats.

“Me too, Chaton. Me too.”

“Sooo… I guess you weren’t kitten when you told Chat Noir you loved him on your balcony the other week.”

He gets a cushion to the face for that one, and he doesn’t even care.


End file.
